


For Life...

by glitterbb



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Confessions, Domestic Fluff, Drunken Mistakes, Fluff, M/M, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-03 02:27:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5273099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitterbb/pseuds/glitterbb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor has a confession to make after a night out with Asher</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Life...

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this stupid headcanon for a while and I've been holding off posting it since forever.... Hope you enjoy!

Oliver tapped his fingers impatiently on the arm of the sofa. It was nothing to worry about, he was sure. Sure, his boyfriend had left telling him he wouldn’t be late, and sure, it was now 11am the next morning, but Connor wasn’t like that anymore. It was nothing. 

He picked his phone up, finger hovering over the dial button. He wanted to call, just to hear Connor’s voice on his voicemail if nothing else, but he’d already left four messages and was starting to feel like he was wasting his time. He let out a long sigh, leaning forward and rubbing despairingly at his face. Connor always told him to be more positive, but right now, every single negative thought was running through his mind. There had to be an explanation. 

Keys rattled in the lock and Oliver jumped to his feet immediately, a mix of anger and relief rushing through his body the second he saw Connor’s face. Drained, tired…. hungover.

“I’m sorry” He mumbled, the second his eyes locked with Oliver’s. He held his hands up, dropping his keys on the side. “I should have called, I’m an asshole.” He croaked, keeping his distance from Oliver, already able to read his stern stare. 

“Where the hell have you been Connor?” The older man sighed, folding his arms across his chest. “You said you wouldn’t be late? That was yesterday evening?” He hissed, trying hard to keep his composure, but God, Connor could be irritating when he wanted to be. He stared expectantly at his boyfriend’s sheepish expression, tapping his foot impatiently as Connor squirmed, fishing into his pocket. 

“It was Asher!” He sighed. “He bought shots, LOTS of shots.” He added, his face paling slightly. “Then my phone died so I crashed at his and I should have called. I’m sorry” He frowned, stepping closer, and Oliver knew those puppy dog eyes all too well. Silence fell between the pair of them, Connor’s stare pleading for forgiveness. Oliver rolled his eyes.

“I thought something terrible had happened to you.” He hissed, reaching out and slapping Connor sharply on the arm, before stepping closer and kissing him firmly, a smirk playing on his lips.

“You mean aside from this hangover?” Connor groaned, wrapping his arms around Oliver, bringing their bodies close together, their foreheads resting against each others as Oliver ran his hands down his boyfriend’s body, every line and curve memorized. 

“Serves you right.” Oliver muttered softly with a playful grin and a soft punch to the arm. His hands immediately coursing back to grab his boyfriend’s hips. 

“Fuck.” Connor yelped, letting out a sharp screech, jumping backwards from Oliver’s embrace and doubling over. 

“What did I do?” Oliver squeaked, his brain immediately thinking the worst yet again as he placed his hand comfortingly on Connor’s back, the younger man’s face still screwed up in pain. “Are you okay?” He asked softly, his concern genuine. Connor nodded, composing himself with a deep breath. 

“I’m fine.” He murmured. “It’s nothing?” He insisted, straightening up, his cheeks pale. He stumbled towards the sofa, dropping down on it heavily. 

“Bullshit Connor!” Oliver pouted, folding his arms. “What the hell happened? Have you hurt yourself?” He asked, standing above his boyfriend as he grabbed a pillow, hugging it to his stomach. Oliver knew that move all too well.

“Seriously Oliver, it’s nothing, I just… I walked into a table?” He mumbled, staring down at his lap. Oliver grabbed the cushion, yanking it out of Connor’s grip and dropping it beside him. 

“Connor?” He tutted with a raised eyebrow, hip cocked, unimpressed. “We said no more secrets.” He sighed, eyes pleading with Connor to just be honest with him for once. Connor looked up, his eyes wide and apologetic. 

“Just trust me Oliver.” He mumbled, his voice small. “It’s nothing. I’ll sort it.” He whispered. The older man sighed, shaking his head. 

“If it’s nothing Connor then you’ll tell me?” He shrugged, turning away from his boyfriend and stalking towards the kitchen. 

“Okay?!” Connor groaned, standing up. “Just… no arguments and promise you won’t laugh?” He sighed, holding his hands up in defeat. Oliver turned back to face him, leaning against the kitchen worktop, arms folded against his chest, staring pointedly as Connor fidgeted, pulling at his sleeves as he shuffled closer, eyes scanning the floor. “I was drunk.” He sighed. “It was just a stupid drunken thing and Asher…. Asher should have stopped me!” He reasoned, his words becoming more urgent as Oliver’s heart sank. He could almost tell what was coming next. Three years without incident and here they were again.

“I hope he was fucking worth it, Connor.” Oliver snapped, teeth gritted, the tears already burning in the corners of his eyes as he stormed towards the bedroom, giving Connor a forceful shove as he passed him. Connor’s face fell, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion before realisation struck. 

“No! Oliver!” His voice croaked as he reached out, grabbing Oliver firmly by the wrist, pulling him back towards him. “Just look?” He sighed, hooking his thumb in the waistband of his jeans and pulling the hem of his t-shirt up meekly. Oliver’s eyes widened, his anger subsiding immediately as he slowly approached his boyfriend, needing to check if his eyes were somehow deceiving him. Connor’s cheeks tinged pink and he looked to the ceiling. “Drunk me thought he was being romantic.” He whispered, his hip now decorated with one word in elegant cursive script. Oliver.

“Oh my god Connor..” Oliver leant closer, crouching slightly to inspect the new addition to his boyfriend’s body, struggling to suppress a giggle. He reached out, tracing his finger lightly over the angry red skin surrounding the tattoo, pulling back as Connor flinched. “Sorry…” He mumbled softly, looking up, his eyes locking on Connor’s, unable to resist a snigger escaping. 

“You said you wouldn’t laugh!” Connor pouted, although his eyes sparkled, giving way to a snigger.

“I promised nothing?” Oliver grinned, shaking his head. “How exactly did you think you were going to hide that from me?” He chuckled, holding the hem of Connor’s top, unable to draw his eyes away from it. “I mean, considering how often you enjoy taking your clothes off?” Connor shrugged, yanking his t-shirt down again and wrapping his arms around himself.

“I don’t know, okay?” He groaned, “But I’m going to sort it.” He muttered, leaning back against the worksurface, shaking his head. “I should sue that fucking tattoo artist.” He hissed through gritted teeth. “He can pay for me to get it removed.” Oliver smiled, bringing his body flush against Connor’s, cupping his jaw and kissing him softly. 

“Or, you could keep it?” He suggested with a grin. Connor frowned, cocking his head quizzically to the side as Oliver kissed suggestively along his jaw, nipping at his earlobe. 

“Are you serious?” Connor smirked. “Don’t you think it’s kind of… tacky?” He grimaced as Oliver’s eyes sparkled mischievously. 

“Oh god, yeah, it’s tacky as hell.” He beamed, grabbing the hem of Connor’s t-shirt and pulling it swiftly over his head, fingers ghosting over the area in question. “But you have my name tattooed on you, for life.” he chuckled to himself. “I own you.” He purred, playfully. 

“If I knew you were going to like it this much, I wouldn’t have spent all morning at Asher’s worrying about it.” Connor hissed, Oliver’s lips finding that sensitive spot behind his earlobe, sucking the skin gently.

“Like is a strong word.” Oliver mumbled. “But I think I can grow to tolerate it.”


End file.
